The Legend of Zelda: Child of Destiny
by ASDF0716
Summary: a work in progress... a new twist to an old story


Disclaimer: Yeah, so all of this stuff, except maybe the chair Link sits on, belongs to Nintendo and friends.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Legend of Zelda: Child of Destiny  
  
Prologue  
  
  
  
It was a dark night in Hyrule. Darker than most. A quick, icy wind wiped through the ancient forest, bending the slight, steady rain to its will as it raced through the large red and gold leaves of the towering oaks. That is to say, where there were leaves. Winter was coming. It would be a cold, harsh winter. A winter the Hylians would not soon forget.  
  
As the wind howled across the land and the driving rain relentlessly pummeled the ground beneath, two figures trudged ever onward through the dense foliage. One, wrapped only in a torn and dirty travel cloak, held a bundle, tightly bound in a soft blue blanket. He held it close to his body, sheltering it against the harshness of the weather. The other pushed his way on, ignoring the weather, seemingly as much as the man beside him.  
  
"Good sir," the aging man pleaded, "Please tell me how much further it is. I don't want him out in such weather long. Evil is about on nights like these." As he spoke, his eyes shifted around nervously, as if afraid his words would give way there location to the evil spirits. His companion only mumbled a terse reply that, to the aging man, sounded more like a complaint than an answer.  
  
"I beg your pardon, sir?"  
  
"Not much further!" he growled. The aging man snapped his mouth shut with a start, trying desperately to pry his eyes from the man's hand, resting dangerously close to his sword hilt. He forced his gaze away, his eyes coming to rest, instead, on the strange symbol engraved in red on the man's silver breastplate: a huge red eye, weeping a single crimson tear of blood.  
  
They traveled on in silence for long minutes before the greenery gave way abruptly and the aging man found himself standing on huge stone steps leading up into a towering structure he recognized immediately. A place of legend. A place of evil. He turned to the man, his mouth agape as he gasped.  
  
"T-t-the Shadow Temple? My lord, the—the evil spirits!" He turned around to leave, only to find his companion grasping his shoulder. His voice was suddenly calm and reassuring, just like it had been when he had first met the man.  
  
"Nonsense," he whispered. "Evil can't reside in a Temple of worship. Those are stories told to frighten away the curious," he laughed a dry chuckle, then smiled. "Trust us. We know what we are doing." The aging man nodded.  
  
His companion led him up the steps and into the temple door. As they entered the temple, the door was pushed shut behind them with a loud thud. Darkness swept in as the door closed. The aging man looked around, lit candles flickered across the stone floors illuminating the temple in a pale, ghostly light. His companion turned to him, holding out his hands toward the bundle.  
  
"Deveroh," he whispered. "It's time." Deveroh's lower lip trembled as he pulled the bundle closer to his body. With great urgency, the man stepped toward him, reaching for the blanket.  
  
"But-but…I." A single tear rolled down his cheek.  
  
"Deveroh," he whispered again. "It's…time." The man placed his hands on the bundle, pulling slightly. The foyer was filled with a baby's cry. The man pulled the baby close to him, watching to see what Deveroh would do. He simply closed his eyes, forcing the breath into his lungs. Nodding, his companion turned and began walking away.  
  
"Wait!" he cried. The man stopped, slowly turning around. He could see the impatience burning in the man's dark eyes. "You're going to protect him, right? The charm you're going to give him will keep the evil away from him, right? That's what you said. It will protect him." Deveroh was struggling through the tears. The man didn't answer him. He only looked deep into his eyes and smiled, then turned and walked away. A second door opened and he stepped through. He watched the door close behind him. Agonizing minutes passed. From somewhere deep in the temple, a baby cried.  
  
Something wasn't right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something felt wrong. A baby cried again. He started running across the temple floor. He slid to a halt before the door, waiting for it to open. It didn't. He pounded on the door, calling to anyone who could hear him. Tears streamed down his face as he threw his body against the door. It didn't budge.  
  
"Open up! Please!," he screamed. "Open up! My boy! I want my baby boy!" He was screaming so loud, he couldn't hear the person yelling to him from back across the temple floor. He turned to see a blonde woman, clad in a suit of armor that mirrored that of his companion, charging at a dead run towards him, sword in hand. Finally, he made out the woman's words.  
  
"Stand back!" she screamed. Deveroh threw himself to the floor just as it burst inward in a shower of sparks, fire and wood. Without missing a beat, the woman leapt across the threshold and disappeared into the dark passageway. In an instant, he was up again and through the door. The passageway was short and dark, splitting at the end into two hallways, one straight ahead, and one to the left. He heard a baby cry and people shouting from the hallway to the left, so, without slowing, he veered off, running as fast as his legs could carry him down the hallway. He ran for what seemed like forever, before the hallway bent slightly to the right and split once again into one that continued on straight, and one bent off to the right.  
  
Blood ran across the floor as a figure in a black robe lay face down on the stone. Another, a man, slumped in the corner, a dagger lodged squarely in his chest. Deveroh turned to the right sprinting down the passageway towards the heart of the Temple. He ran on until finally, he found another wooden door blown apart, like the first. He heard low chanting from behind the door. A baby screamed. Not bothering to stop and look, he leapt through the door, not prepared for what he saw.  
  
The room was large and oval, huge marble columns rose high into the air, disappearing in a blanket of shadows, billowing past a huge glass dome. Through the dome's black tinted glass, Deveroh could see the full moon's ghostly pale light filtering down across the Temple. In the center of the room, encircled in fire was an altar. Upon the altar was a small baby wrapped in a soft blue blanket.  
  
"No!" Deveroh screamed. He stood in paralyzed horror as he watched black robed figures poring oils and rubbing black ashes on his son's body. On the other side of the room, even through the misty shadows, he could see the sparks flying and the metallic clang of steel on steel as the woman fought desperately with his companion. Blocking a high blow, and holding it up, hilt on hilt, she turned her head to him.  
  
"Go!" she screamed. "Get the child!"  
  
Deveroh snapped out of his stasis, running towards the center of the room. He could hear the chanting as he approached. The four men stood around the altar. In unison, they chanted. "Upon this, the Altar of Storms, we place this child."  
  
"The darkest night, the brightest star," one of the four men chanted, sprinkling oil over the child.  
  
"A child of peace, a child of war," the next said, again sprinkling oil.  
  
"A soul so innocent and kind," the next began, dumping his share of oil on the child. As the fourth began speaking, the other three joined in.  
  
"A soul so evil and so blind," they changed together.  
  
"A soul so black, to pierce the Light,"  
  
"A soul so pure, to stay the night."  
  
"A soul of courage and one of hate."  
  
"We bind both, now, to their fate." Lightning cracked as they finished the chant. Deveroh pushed his way past the surprised monks, grabbing for his son. The child screamed as the magic started to work, the rain beat against the dome and the wind picked up, howling against the trees. The monks tried to stop him as he grabbed his child, but a lowered shoulder, well placed in the sternum, sent one of the black clad clerics to the floor, gasping for air.  
  
From across the room, Deveroh heard the woman weeping. "It's too late. I failed." She turned to him, yelling. "Go. Get him out of here!" Her sword arm dropped and he heard the cold steel clatter against the floor. He watched as his companion, an evil grin spread across his face, peer deep into the woman's eyes, watching the tears as his sword slipped into the gap between the plates in her armor. The sword bit deep, up through her breast and into her heart. He turned and ran as he watched her lifeless body slump to the ground. He didn't look back as he raced down the hallways, backtracking the way he'd come. He nearly tripped down the stone steps in front of the Temple and didn't look back or stop to rest until the Shadow Temple was far, far behind him.  
  
Back in the room with the Altar of Storms, the man stood, looking over the lifeless body at his feet. From the shadows, a figure stepped slightly into the light. "The ritual was completed, but the child got away," the figure whispered.  
  
The man only nodded.  
  
The shadowy figure only stared at him in disbelieve. "You realize, of course, what this means."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"This doesn't concern you?"  
  
The man shook his head. Only afterwards did he lift his gaze from the corpse. "The child lives?" He asked.  
  
The figure shook his head. "Yes," he confirmed. "The child lives."  
  
The man smiled. "Then all is well."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
On that day, the world was changed forever…  
  
Chapter I: Awakening  
  
Link awoke with a start. The steady rain and wind beat against the rooftop with an almost annoying persistence. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand across his forehead, mopping up the sweat that plastered his long blonde locks against his skin. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to calm down. It took several seconds for his breathing to fall back into a steady in and out rhythm. The cool night wind wiped over his face from the open window across the room. He sat up in his bed, slowly getting to his feet, and walked over to the window. The rain sprinkled against his face, cooling his hot skin. He swallowed. The words from the dream were too fresh in his mind, too vivid, to even think about trying to go back to sleep.  
  
For a week straight, Link had found himself woken in the middle of the night in cold sweats, short of breath and haunted by the appalling images burned into his memory from the dream. Night after night, he found himself helpless, watching in mute horror as a black clad figure, his face always obscured by shadows slaughter innocent people, seemingly on a whim. Link knew the figure enjoyed it. He could feel the sense of power and authority that seeped into the figure as he held helpless people at the point of his sword. He didn't know how he knew, just that he did. The dark figure would pursue his nightly prey, sometimes it was a farm girl, running through the woods, other times, it would be some swaggering aristocrat, his young, beautiful wife on his arm, that soon saw her slaughtered and his life abruptly at an end. Link could feel their fear. He could hear their heartbeats as loudly as his own. Each time, he would rush to their aid, but he was always too late. He would stand over their lifeless corpses as the dark man would turn his gaze on him. He would raise his sword above his head, growling in hatred as he spoke the words:  
  
I am the Prince of Darkness.  
  
I am the King of Evil.  
  
My coming was foretold.  
  
I am Nothing.  
  
I am Everything.  
  
I…am…Forever.  
  
It was always before Link could make sense of the words that the sword would sink home and he would wake, screaming. He was so tired. He gazed up at the moon, full in the sky as it was now, and wished for something to make the nightmare end. He wished for answers to why he felt such torment deep in his being. He wanted to know why his soul ached.  
  
"Hello, Link." The voice was soft and feminine. Link spun on his heels, his sharp mind racing, trying to find a weapon close at hand. His quick mind and agile body acted as one as he turned, grabbed a nearby candleholder and prepared for the worst. His keen elven eyes scanned the shadowed room for the source of the voice. They could make out the vague outline of a, slight, slender figure hiding deep in the shadows. The darkness almost bent around her, masking most of her face in the night. "Don't be alarmed," she reassured. "I mean you no harm."  
  
Link wasn't convinced. He tightened the grip on the candleholder, waiting for any sign of movement from his intruder, any justification to attack. There was a brief moment of silence, followed by sudden, quick chant before the room was bathed in a soft blue light. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. "What do you want with me?"  
  
"I want," the woman answered immediately, "to give you the answers you've been longing for, Link."  
  
"Answers to what? I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Don't you?" The woman stood from where she sat in the shadows, her hand still holding the small blue flame illuminating the room. "Don't you?" she whispered, moving towards him.  
  
As she closed the distance between them, Link received his first unobstructed view of the woman. Clad in thin, supple armor laced in royal blue and purple, black ringmail leggings and silver gauntlets, the woman was indeed and imposing figure. However, what interested Link more than the less-than-usual attire the woman wore, was the symbol engraved on her breastplate. Laced in crimson was a large open eye, weeping a single blood- red tear. Link dropped the now evidently useless candlestick. It clattered to the ground with a clang. "The man that tortures your sleep, the man who's face you never see? Last night he killed a young, beautiful woman and the child at her feet." Link closed his eyes. He drew a deep breath that wouldn't come. "He made the woman watch as he gutted her child." Tears streamed down his face as he remembered. "And then he killed her," she whispered softly.  
  
"Enough," Link whispered under his breath.  
  
"Shall I go on?" she asked. "Shall I tell you what he did to her eight year old little boy soon after? He-- ,"  
  
"Enough!" Link screamed, forcing his gaze away from the woman. "Why are you doing this to me? What do you want?"  
  
She forced his eyes back onto her. He tried to look away, but her gaze held him fast. "I already told you what I want." The mysterious woman took a step towards Link. "These are dark time, young hero. Malevolent forces that have been dormant for generations are now on the move. They are awake and their evil tendrils are already seeping out into every aspect of life in Hyrule."  
  
Link fell to the ground, scooting backwards until his back was pressed against the wall behind him, just below the window. He put his head in his hand, resting on the knee he pulled up to his chest. The two just sat there for long moments, neither daring to break the silence. Almost five full minutes later, it was Link that finally spoke.  
  
"What's happening to me?" he whispered.  
  
"You feel a hunger. An undeniable pull towards a distant land, a faraway place." She once again closed the distance between them. "It is this feeling that has brought me to you."  
  
"Who are you?" With a single, quick movement, the strange woman closed her fist. The blue flame winked out as abruptly as it had appeared, expunging all but the moonlight from the room.  
  
"My name is Silk," she said dangerously. "and I was sent to warn you." Silk leaned forward, extending a gauntleted hand to him. He could see her sharp green eyes, filled with knowledge and strength, as they pierced through the darkness, looking deep into his soul. He felt feeble and powerless beneath her gaze. He felt like a small child. He felt helpless. Their hands entwined and with little evidence of effort, Silk lifted Link to his feet. He met her eye to eye. "You are in danger, Link." Link ran his hand through his thick mane of blonde hair. "You are in danger and you are not yet ready."  
  
"Ready? Ready for what?"  
  
"Ready for the truth," she whispered. "You are not yet ready to fight legends." Link was more confused now than he had ever been before. He wasn't quite sure how he fit into all of this. In his mind he pictured the mysterious man in his dream. He could almost see his face, so familiar, like a stranger he had known all of his life. Link was stirred from his thoughts as Silk brushed past him. The cryptic young woman leaned against the window, starting out across the small elven village of Solinost.  
  
"It's almost dawn," she watched the glowing orange and red horizon with concern. "We need to be gone before sunrise."  
  
"Gone?" With very little movement, Silk nodded.  
  
"No one yet knows where you are." Silk turned from the window. "I found you only because I knew where to look. The evil creeping into the world does not yet know where to look to find you, but they soon will. If they find you: you will die, and the world along with you. You can't hide from destiny, Link. The world will soon be engulfed in a war that will leave millions dead and lay waste to the entire countryside. That leaves you precious little time to get to the Temple of Light. I wish I could take the time to explain it all right now, but I can't. The only way I can keep you safe is to take you away from here. I promise you, once we are safe I will give you the answers. Maybe then, you can return." Link started to voice another question but was quickly silenced with a wave of Silk's metal clad fist. "Let's go, Link. The answers are coming."  
  
Without seeming to run or increase her speed at all, Silk managed to dart across the room and out the door as quick and as quiet as a mouse, saying "Get dressed and meet me outside when you're ready," as she disappeared into the darkness. Quickly stumbling around his room, Link pulled off his night shirt and grabbed his green tunic as he quickly dashed after her. He stumbled out into the cold morning air, pulling the tunic over his head as he dashed for the rope ladder leading down to the ground below. He grabbed his brown, dirty boots and looked down. Silk stood at the base of the tall tree that held Link's room suspended above the ground, she stared off at the fast approaching morning with growing worry.  
  
As Link descended the ladder, his eyes weren't on the pink sky. His eyes scanned the huge housed built in the trees that had made up his home his entire life. The small village of Solinost was an engineering marvel. The entire village, all the residences anyway, where built in the ancient, towering oak and ash trees that nestled the small village, hiding it away from civilization.  
  
Silk wasted no time setting off as Link completed his decent. She practically pulled him behind her as she darted from shadow to shadow, careful not to stay in the light for too long. The night was her element. She couldn't help but miss the security the shadows provided to one such as herself. A loner at heart, she did all she could to avoid the complications that seemed to always accompany daylight and the harsh, cold realities it inflicted upon the unwary. She had been hurt too much too often to allow herself the convenience of sociability. A lifetime of hardships and trials had forged her, dispelling her girlhood naiveté early on, along with her trust in companions and friendships. She was a warrior through and through.  
  
Silk was ripped from her thoughts as Link slide to a halt just outside the borders of his homeland. "I said: Where are we going?" Silk looked at him seemingly for the first time. She stared at him blankly for a moment.  
  
"To the east," she said at last, "Lies the city of Hyrule. That is where you must go. That is where your journey to the heart of evil must begin." 


End file.
